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Chapter 5: The Grind
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Chapter 7: The Echo in the Archive
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...
Rusting cranes clawed at the night sky like skeletal fingers, silent and still.
The air smelled of salt, decay, and a faint, electric tang of ozone that tickled the back of his throat.
Michael moved through the deep shadows of abandoned warehouses, his hoodie pulled low, just another ghost in a city full of them.
The Reaper’s Fang felt cold and solid in his pocket, a secret promise of violence.
He found Warehouse 7 easily.
The building itself seemed to ...
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